


Together

by rileypotter17



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Targaryen Mormont family moments, everyone is happy, grey worm and missandei being cute, the small council of my dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23146681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileypotter17/pseuds/rileypotter17
Summary: Three distinct moments in Jorah and Daenerys' relationship with a new addition to their family.
Relationships: Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 20
Kudos: 53
Collections: Jorleesi Equinox Exchange -Spring 2020





	Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fairytale_bliss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytale_bliss/gifts).



> I am so excited that I was pushed a little out of my comfort zone to write about a Targeryen-Mormont baby :) Cheers to fairytale_bliss, I hope you enjoy!

“Daenerys...” Missandei looked at her Queen and closest friend in awe, her eyes filled with tears.

“No...it can’t be...” Daenerys squeezed Missandei’s hand and both women looked towards Maester Tarly who was bent over the basin washing his hands after finishing the Queen’s examination. She didn’t want to get her hopes up. It was a dream that died many years ago for her.

Samwell Tarly turned back around, a smile and a bit of a blush lighting up his face, “Your Grace, you’re with child. I promise you.”

Daenerys was immediately crushed by Missandei’s arms wrapping around her and the two women embraced and cried together. Her final hope and desire had come true and she trusted Sam more than anything in the world – he saved her husband, after all. It was _real._

_Her husband_ – Jorah. She needed to find him and tell him. Her soul ached to share the news with him and she asked Sam where he might be. The two were as close as Jorah was with Grey Worm, and he seemed to always know his whereabouts.

“I saw him an hour or so ago with Grey Worm teaching little Jaesse how to hold a sword,” Maester Tarly shrugged, embarrassed at having given away that information, knowing that Missandei wouldn’t like hearing that.

“Of course...” Missandei shook her head, annoyed but unsurprised that the two friends would be training her and Grey Worm’s adopted son already. The lad was five years old and the pair had adopted him from Flea Bottom a few months after their marriage.

“It was a wooden sword, at least I think...” Samwell chimed in as the two women left the Maester’s chambers, walking hand in hand through the Red Keep’s corridors and down to the courtyard where they would hopefully find their husbands.

Daenerys, bursting at the seams with the news, never expected that she would be where she was today ten years prior. She had conquered Westeros, on _her_ terms, brought stability back to the Seven Kingdoms after the Long Night, and watched as her two closest companions married and had the freedom to start the family they never thought they would have.

But, most importantly, she realized that everything she ever wanted – more than the Iron Throne, and everything she ever loved – more than her two remaining children that were occupying the skies over King’s Landing, had been in front of her all along.

Jorah Mormont. He had returned to her side again and again. When she banished him, and when she had to let him go. When she almost lost him during the Long Night, her world shattered. While the rest of the North recovered and as everyone from Tyrion to Jon Snow advised her to continue on and defeat Cersei, Daenerys stayed by Jorah’s bedside as Sam did all he could to bring him back to health.

Her darkest moments played out in the chair next to his bed, hearing him groan in pain in the middle of the night, watching his brow drip with sweat from a terrible fever, and watching him tremble.

She told him she loved him over and over again, hoping that somewhere deep inside he heard her words. And the day that he finally woke up, she spoke the words again. Never once did she regret waiting until he had convalesced before continuing South.

Even though her feelings for him grew by the day, he needed more convincing. She had spurned him too many times, kept him safely at a distance. He was instrumental in helping her start her new Queendom and managing the city in the first few months.

When she didn’t leave him alone and refused to entertain any thoughts from her newly elected small council about an arranged marriage, he finally believed her. From there they shared their thoughts and dreams and hopes...and then their bodies. But Daenerys truly believed their souls were entwined from the first moment they met, when he handed her books about her home and apologized that the gift was so meager.

On their wedding day, Daenerys felt she could have never been happier as the man she was deeply in love with put his cloak around her shoulders and they promised themselves to one another for eternity. She had her dragons, and her Queendom, and _him_.

But when she and Missandei stepped out into the sunny courtyard and saw their husbands with young Jaesse, she felt even happier.

“Grey Worm...” Missandei started calmly. The pair of them were the opposite of Daenerys and Jorah – both serene and steady like the ocean on a windless day, while Daenerys and Jorah were like a storm – passionate and intense. Even though Missandei was clearly not pleased, her voice only betrayed a hint of chiding to her husband, who quickly and sheepishly took away the wooden sword from Jaesse.

“My love, he begged me,” Grey Worm smiled and Jorah nodded, backing up his friend.

Daenerys looked down at little Jaesse, precocious and wide-eyed. He didn’t look much like his adoptive parents, but he loved them ferociously already. Her heart thrummed in anticipation of telling her husband that a child like that was in their future.

She noticed how Jorah doted on the boy as well as Sam and Gilly’s son, little Sam. Even if they both had thought and known deep-down she was barren, Jorah never mentioned being upset or wanting a child of his own. But Daenerys knew better. The Mormont name would die with him, since his cousin passed away in the battle of the Long Night. Surely, he would want a little bear cub of his own.

_Or a little dragon_. She missed Viserion deeply, but the babe inside her would bring her children back up to three.

“Come on Jaesse, why don’t we let Daenerys and Jorah have a moment to themselves?” Missandei reached her hand out and Jaesse quickly ran to his mother and took it. Grey Worm, slightly confused, followed and the family left the sunny courtyard.

“Khaleesi, I promise you Grey Worm and I were very careful...” Jorah said, his eyes darting to the wooden sword that lay forgotten on the ground. She smiled when he used her favorite endearment. It had run the entire course of their relationship, from platonic to romantic, and it never ceased to make her heart flutter.

“I’m sure you were. I know you care for him. I know, deep down, you’d like a son of your own,” Daenerys stepped forward and met him in the circle of sunlight that bounced off the tiles on the floor of the courtyard.

“Or a daughter,” Jorah said and then lowered his head, “I’m sorry.”

Her heart started to beat faster that the thought of a child with her was so clearly on the top of his head. In one way, it saddened her to know he longed for it...but it made her thrilled that she could finally give him what he wanted. What they _both_ wanted.

She stroked the gingery stubble on his cheek and then kissed him there, “No need, my bear. What if I told you that you were going to have everything you ever wanted?”

Jorah wrapped his arms around her waist and took a crooked finger to her chin to tilt her head upwards so that he could try and discern the true meaning of her statement in her violet eyes. He shook his head, “I have all I could ever want. She’s right here in my arms.”

Still, even though he didn’t take her initial bait, she saw the hope flash in his eyes and felt him breathe in deeply. She gently reached for his hand under her chin and guided it down to her belly, placing it there with his palm over the very slight swell, “I wouldn’t lie to you. I haven’t bled in months. I’ve been so busy that I hadn’t stopped to think about it. And then I went to see Sam today and he confirmed what I suspected.”

Jorah dropped to his knees, his entire, leanly muscular body falling in awe and his arms reached around her legs as he pressed a kiss to her belly before looking back up at her, “How? How?” he repeated, tears in his eyes. He had been there when she lost her first child and the darkness that had accompanied those days. He had been there when she lost her second – not born from her flesh, but still as close as blood. He knew she had lain with others and not produced a child. _But now_...

“Jorah, I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. It’s yours – _ours_ – and healthy and growing”. Happy tears started to run down her cheeks and she laughed through them as he kissed her stomach over and over again before standing back up and picking her up in his arms, her feet dangling above the ground.

They stayed that way for a while, suspended in time in the happiest moment of their lives since their wedding. Not a Queen and her Knight, but lovers and parents to be on the edge of a new chapter of their lives together.

**~o0o~**

“Please, your Grace, we can postpone this meeting,” Tyrion urged her, not only as her Hand, but as her friend. She had spent the better part of the small council meeting grimacing and holding her very swollen, nine-month pregnant, belly. Jorah was on the edge of his seat and had discreetly sent his squire to fetch Maester Tarly.

“I’m fine...go on...” Daenerys said through gritted teeth. She was stubborn and had spent her entire pregnancy trying to prove her strength as a Queen, even when she didn’t feel her best. She wasn’t going to let a few pangs in her stomach derail an important meeting.

“Surely this can wait...” Varys looked around the table at the other two members of the council, Yara Greyjoy and Desmera Redwyne. Only Desmera nodded in the affirmative.

“If she says she’s fine, she’s fine,” Yara said, crossing her arms, clearly impatient to move the meeting along.

“Thank you, Yara... _ohh_...” Daenerys felt she was weathering the cramps rather well, but she couldn’t hide the pool of water now under her feet. Jorah rushed to her side and Tyrion cursed.

“Maester Tarly, the Queen is going to have her baby...” Desmera told Sam as he entered the room to the sight of panic. The only one who wasn’t fussing was Yara.

“Oh, it hurts...” Daenerys felt a stronger wave of pain, one that knocked the air out of her lungs and she clutched onto her husband.

“You did this to her...remember that,” Yara smirked at Jorah, who shot back a dirty look and helped her towards Sam. Daenerys held her belly as the pain ripped through her with only seconds of solace in between. She insisted on giving birth in her bed, but Sam knew she wouldn’t make it there in time. One of the castle’s many guest rooms would have to suffice.

When she was settled in the bed of the nearest room, Jorah pressed a cool compress to her head as she clenched her teeth and groaned in pain. Gilly and Missandei assisted Sam in preparing for the child, but the room, even though filled with her closest friends, felt tense.

No one wanted to say it, but they were nervous. Daenerys had had a rough pregnancy, suffering severely debilitating morning sickness at the beginning and various aches and pains throughout. At first she had a beautiful glow about her, but as the months went on, she looked sullen and tired – the strain of ruling the seven kingdoms while pregnant draining her. People came from far and wide to give her gifts to celebrate her heir once the news broke and she hosted all of the major families within the last eight months – all of them sweet and generous with their gifts in exchange for the small hope that when her heir grew up, she might consider an alliance with one of their children. She carried inside her the most important child in the kingdom, and that wasn’t lost on her or Jorah.

The last few months, on top of the pains and fatigue, brought Daenerys terrible dreams. Dreams of Mirri Maz Duur telling her that her child had scales and was not human, much like she had heard in real life so many years ago.

Her being pregnant was a miracle and even though Sam kept a close eye on her, insisting that the child was healthy, she had doubts in the very back of her mind that this would turn out the way she wanted.

“Daenerys, you need to breathe...” Missandei said softly and she squeezed Jorah’s hand until she felt her fingers might break.

“I can’t even think, let alone breathe,” Daenerys looked up at her friend and then to her husband, who had a smile on his face at her comment.

“Try, my love.” He dipped the compress in the cool bowl of water at the bedside and then placed it again on her forehead.

Sam and Gilly readied fresh linens and another bowl of water. Missandei helped Daenerys get into a birthing position in between severe contractions.

“Daenerys, it’s time. Push as hard as you can.” Sam instructed her and then looked to Jorah. The Queen did what she wanted and even though she trusted Sam beyond measure, she often didn’t take all of his advice. He needed Jorah to convince her.

“I can’t...it hurts...” Daenerys sobbed. She felt like a failure. She had been through trials few had survived. She was the Unburnt. The Mother of Dragons. But the pain of delivering her child was too much. And beyond that pain, the fear of the unknown.

“Yes, you can, Khaleesi. You can and you will. I can’t wait to meet our baby and if you can conquer the seven kingdoms and ride on the back of a dragon, you can push,” Jorah let her squeeze his hand again until it was numb as she moved through another powerful contraction, “I love you. You can do this.”

Daenerys screamed as she beared down and pushed until she thought she was going to pass out and Missandei and Gilly begged her to push just a little more. She tried, her face red and her heart pounding. And then she heard another scream.

The wailing of a newborn.

“It’s a boy!” Gilly exclaimed as Sam took the child and wiped his face and body.

Daenerys turned her head to look at her husband. His eyes were on the screaming little baby that Sam was cleaning and she saw a tear run down his cheek. She couldn’t bring herself to look. Not yet. She was too scared.

“Is he...?”

“He’s fine Daenerys. He’s absolutely fine.” Jorah promised her, “Look...”

Daenerys turned as Sam bundled the child in a blanket and placed him in his mothers’ arms. His eyes were shut and his face red, but he looked beautiful and healthy. He was real and he was theirs.

Missandei and Gilly left the room to give them a moment alone and Sam retreated to the edge of the room to wash up. Jorah moved so he sat on the bed next to his wife and new son.

“What should we name him?” Jorah asked. He had never seen a more beautiful sight.

“Jeor.” Daenerys couldn’t take her eyes off their new gift, “Our little bear. We’ll always be together.”

**~o0o~**

“Today’s the day, son,” Jorah placed his hand on his ten-year-old son’s shoulder as they walked up the side of one of the windy cliffs on Dragonstone. Drogon and Rhaegal used the island as their home and while the castle there still served the Targaryen-Mormont family, they spent less time there than King’s Landing or Bear Island.

But Daenerys was finally ready to let their son, Jeor, try to ride a dragon. The boy had asked as soon as he could talk, having been introduced to both Drogon and Rhaegal as an infant. It was only natural for a child of Targaryen descent, but Daenerys had always been hesitant. She trusted her dragons but was wildly protective of Jeor. After him, her and Jorah weren’t able to conceive another child, and she would do anything to protect her only human son.

“Where’s Mama?” Jeor asked as they walked, climbing up the steep slope together. Jorah was slightly out of breath and starkly reminded that he wasn’t getting any younger.

“She’ll be here,” Jorah said, looking up to the sky. It was a cloudy day, but she was up there with her dragons – somewhere.

When they reached the plateau of the cliff, Jorah took a moment to look at his son and take in the moment. He had his mother’s silver hair and his blue eyes. He was already tall for his age, taking after Jorah in that way, and lanky – growing too fast for his body to catch up. And while he showed signs of inheriting Jorah’s strong jaw-line, he also had his mother’s dimples and her curiosity.

When Jorah and Daenerys became intimate, Rhaegal showed signs of wanting to accept Jorah as his rider. Jorah, for the most part, had no interest, but Daenerys encouraged him. It was a mysterious and nearly sacred thing for a dragon to choose and accept a rider, and Jorah did eventually bond with Rhaegal, often riding him to Bear Island.

However, Rhaegal still sensed Jorah’s fear. He wasn’t a Targaryen and riding dragons wasn’t in his blood – so the beast flew straight and steady instead of doing the acrobats Drogon favored.

But as Jeor grew, Jorah stopped riding Rhaegal as much. He favored the security of the land, but always made sure to visit the dragon when possible.

Both Jeor and Jorah heard a screech and looked up to see Rhaegal descending and landing on the cliff. Drogon followed, still much bigger than his sibling, with Daenerys on his back. Jeor broke into a smile as he watched his mother climb down off of Drogon’s back and walk towards her family.

“Are you ready, little bear?” Daenerys asked her pride and joy. It was unheard of for a dragon to bond with more than one rider at a time. Although Rhaegal clearly knew and respected that Jeor was of Targaryen heritage, he hadn’t warmed to the boy in the same way he had to Jorah. But Drogon had. Lore and many stories of dragons and the Targaryen family noted that a rider could bond with only one dragon, but a dragon could bond with more than one rider, _but only if the former rider was deceased_.

Daenerys had already proved part of this theory false, as all of her dragons had a deep, almost telepathic bond with her, and they had all met on the cliffs of Dragonstone to test out the rest.

“I’m ready, Mama.” Jeor said very seriously. He took her hand as the three of them walked towards Drogon. The dragon looked at them all with bright, easy eyes – Daenerys was his mother and Jorah was nothing less than a father – the man had been there since his birth.

And by the way Drogon sniffed and raised his head when he saw Jeor, he clearly liked the boy as well.

“Go on...” Jorah encouraged as Jeor tentatively stepped forward to touch Drogon, who let him and made a sound something like an other-worldly purr of a cat. Only Daenerys had ever been able to get him to make that sound. She beamed with pride.

“Drogon, you know your brother, Jeor. He would like to ride you, with me and without me. Your other brother has accepted Jorah, and I want to be able to all be in the sky together, as a family,” Daenerys entreated the dragon, who blinked and lowered his head, giving her access to climb on his back.

She placed her boot on the hearty patch of scales by his neck and hoisted herself onto the dragon, reaching out her hand for Jeor. It was the moment of truth.

Her son didn’t hesitate and followed her, climbing up the neck of Drogon and taking a place in front of his mother.

Jorah and Daenerys waited for a moment – waited for Drogon to shake and buck them off or growl or whip his neck. Nothing happened. He was simply waiting patiently for an order to fly.

Jorah had witnessed so many miracles in his life – Daenerys stepping out of the flames of the pyre unburnt, the birth of the dragons, the death of the white-walkers and the Night King, his marriage to Daenerys, and the birth of Jeor. But this would be a moment he would never forget. Drogon had accepted Jeor as a second living rider – the first time a dragon had ever done so.

He ran towards Rhaegal, his heart pounding in excitement that they were all going to fly together, and he nearly jumped onto the dragon’s back.

“Sōves!” Jeor yelled. He had been preparing the High Valyrian word in case this moment happened and Drogon kicked off of the ground with his hind legs and started to fly straight up in the air. All Jorah had to do was press into Rhaegal’s scales with the heel of his palm and they soared up into the sky as well.

Daenerys squeezed her arms around her son as they leveled off above the clouds, where the air was still and bright. He was laughing and happy and clearly felt the same freedom she did the first time she rode Drogon. She looked over to Jorah, on the back of Rhaegal, and even though neither said a word, she knew they were both thinking the same thing.

Everything was complete. A Bear and the Dragon Queen with their three children – happy, safe, _together_.


End file.
